


Spacewalk in the Void

by Kittyluvr42



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Autistic Asriel (Undertale), Autistic Asriel Dreemurr, Autistic Chara (Undertale), Autistic Chara Dreemurr, Autistic Frisk (Undertale), Autistic Frisk Dreemurr, Canon Nonbinary Character, Childhood, Gen, Nice Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Post-Canon, Self-Hatred, Sibling Bonding, Soft Chara (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyluvr42/pseuds/Kittyluvr42
Summary: Asriel goes for a normal walk for normal reasons and definitely does not have a mental breakdown in the process. Everything's FINE. (Takes place after "Wherever He May Sail" but that's not super important to this one.)
Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr & Frisk, Chara & Asriel Dreemurr, Chara & Asriel Dreemurr & Frisk
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. He Keeps Walking

**Author's Note:**

> After I finished up the epilogue of Wherever He May Sail I had a miniature depressive break for unrelated reasons. But! I was still being an azzy kinnie from writing that (aztral projecting?) and so I went "welp, I guess it's time for Asriel to have a breakdown too" and this happened. No promises it's good but I think I liked how it came out. If something's confusing, comment and I can edit it I guess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fine.

Asriel hears the door slam behind him. A second passes. Another passes. He feels the paving stone beneath his feet as he walks away from the house. The cool night air holds him gently, deceptive. It sucks the heat from his uncovered paw pads, angry at the coat of fur that blocks it from the rest of its prey. He accepts its embrace anyway. It’s some nice respite from the stuffed warmth of that house and all of its love, love he doesn’t deserve. If the night hates him, perhaps it’s the only thing that’s sane. He keeps walking.

By the time he hears the door open again, he’s already at the end of the block. If his ears weren’t as large as they were, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. He doesn’t hear his mom’s voice call after him, even though it was louder than the door. He does hear the door open two more times shortly after. He also hears the soft murmur of conversation, but not the words it wraps. He keeps walking.

He walks for 30 minutes. He thinks it’s 30 minutes. He’s not actually sure how long it is. Every step echoes behind him. He hates those echoes, their refusal to leave him alone, their smothering love everpresent behind him. He turns a corner, slipping between some trees, his soft footpads and their softer fur muffling his steps in the grass. The echoes stop following him. He keeps walking.

It starts raining. It’s a light rain. He hardly notices it under his fur. Slowly, his sweater dampens, but he doesn’t notice that either. He notices himself not noticing. He finds himself unable to contemplate it. A second layer of fuzz wraps his brain. It’s not physical this time. He keeps walking.

He comes across a clearing. The grass is light and damp. The mountain looms in the background. He keeps walking.

The grass turns to stone beneath his feet. The rain slows, turning into occasional groups of droplets from scattered clouds above. He keeps walking.

The stone becomes jagged, poking his still bare feet. He ignores it. The upward slope becomes steeper as vines threaten to grab him. He keeps walking.

He comes across an opening. The darkness yawns in front of him. He looks into the cavern. Vines tangle the floor, surrounding an opening in the floor. He contemplates the opening. He wonders what they felt when they first came here, if it was what he feels. They’d told him, he knows what they'd felt. They’d never talked about what lead to that, but he’d figured out enough. They, on the other hand, never talked about why they’d fallen. Maybe they’d felt the same thing. He turns from the cavern. He keeps walking.

The ground begins to flatten out, the path curving around the side of the mountain. It abruptly ends, turning sharply into the mountainside itself. There’s another cavern there. He steps in. It’s quiet. He’d never heard this room quiet before. The last time he was here, he’d been surrounded by laughs and conversation he didn’t deserve. The times before that, he’d heard the sound of dust, vines, and the soft pulsing of ancient curses. The time before those, he’d been in too much pain to hear anything besides the pounding in his chest and the tears of his sibling. But that doesn’t matter anymore, right? He is here, they are here. Everything is fine. He keeps walking.

He’s in a room. Two gilded chairs sit unevenly, both covered, one by dust and the other by cloth. Plants overgrow the floors, wrapping around both of them. He hears laughing. Hears his own laughter, cruel and soulless. He hears vines. He hears laughing, childish laughter, his own and his sibling’s. He keeps walking. He stops walking.

The next room is filled with love. Love from happier times, love that’s returned, love that’s returned. He stands in the throne room. This room is filled with LOVE. This room reeks. It reeks of blood spilled in his name. It reeks of dust. It reeks of dust spilled in his name. He stops walking.

He looks again around the overgrown throne room. The golden flowers that grew here had burst their flowerbed, strangling around the smaller patches of other flowers that had once lined the walls, before he’d brought the seeds. He lays down in the biggest patch of himself. He looks up.

He sees the stars through the gap in the ceiling. He remembers being here previously. He remembers laughter. He remembers hopes and dreams. He remembers souls and promises. He remembers dreaming of being close to the stars, among them in light, remembered. He remembers infinity. It’s a million years ago, so long ago and so far away. He looks up.

He sees the void through the gap in the ceiling. He remembers being here previously. He sees slaughter. He sees no hopes or dreams. He sees broken souls and dust. He dreams of being up there, alone in the void, forgotten. He remembers all of time. It’s yesterday and so close by. He looks up.

He tries to remember a million years ago. He remembers reverie. He remembers sneaking out, spending a night under the stars, seeing them for the first time. He remembers his sibling, laughing at him. He remembers their voice, sharp and snarky, it snapped him out of his reverie. “Ok dork, come back to earth.” He looks up.

He can’t remember a million years ago. He’s trapped in a reverie. He’s used to the stars, he’s seen them a million times. He hears his sibling’s voice, soft and gentle, it snaps him out of his reverie. “Hey, Az? You in here?” He looks up.

He doesn’t say anything. Frisk’s footsteps are loud enough for the both of them. They walk in and plop down on the ground next to him, gently rustling the flowers. “Do you want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t. So, he doesn’t. They sit there in silence in case he changes his mind. His other sibling’s voice echoes in from outside. “Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he’s in here.”

He hears Chara lower themself gently onto the ground on the other side of him.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course he doesn’t. He never does.”

Frisk doesn’t respond. Instead, they lie back on the ground and stretch out next to him. Chara sits there, watching both of them. After a minute, they lie down too. He feels like he should say something, but his voice is broken. No words come out, so they all sit there in silence, the occasional cloud splattering them with enough water to be noticeable but not enough to be worth addressing.


	2. They Sit in Silence.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asriel finally talks stuff out with people and starts to feel a bit better.

Eventually, Chara breaks the silence. “You’re not ok, are you Azzy?”

He pauses before asking. “How are you ‘ok’?”

“I’m not.”

They sit in silence for a while longer.

“Mom’s really worried about you.”

“Do you remember? When we snuck out so you could show me the stars?”

“Yeah.”

“...”

“That’s why I thought you’d be here.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I thought you followed me.”

“We tried. You got better at losing me.”

“Chara had to guess where to look.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to be ok with this.”

“With what?”

“You all just… Act like nothing happened, like everything’s alright, like I’m still who I was. Mom just started taking care of us again like we never died, like she’s not fighting with dad, like it’s not our fault that they hate each other.”

“Azzy”

“Everyone else acts like I didn’t try to steal their souls, you act like I didn’t betray you-”

“Asriel, what are y-”

“Frisk acts like I didn’t kill them again and again. Everyone just acts like it all worked out ok and that nothing bad happened, like I’m supposed to just accept that they love me again after everything I did.”

He hears Frisk sit up and turn to him. “What are we supposed to do? Are you expecting us to hate you?”

“I killed you. So many times. And unlike everyone else, you actually remember that. I don’t understand why you don’t.”

Frisk pauses, then mumbles, “I got used to it.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel BETTER?”

“Not really.”

Chara sits up too. He hears them roll their eyes. “Great job. Then why’d you say it?”

“He’s smart. He knows when he’s being lied or pandered to, and that won’t make him feel better either.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Why do you think you betrayed me?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I don’t either, but”

“Look what happened when we didn’t.”

He sits up now, hugging his knees to his chest.

“If it’s about that stupid flower idea, I never should have tried to make you-”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then tell me.”

He rolls back so he’s lying on the ground, staring up at the stars again, his knees still held against his chest. He hears Chara stifle a laugh, barely stopping themselves before they say the otherwise inevitable “dork.” He’s sure he looks ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. It helps, and they know it’s not the time. “You said you remember that night, where you helped me sneak out so I could see the stars. I remember they were so beautiful, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. They shined with so much hope.”

He pauses. Neither of his siblings say anything. The only sound he hears is Frisk quietly fiddling with the flowers.

“This is where I woke up, you know. As Flowey.”

Frisk stops fiddling. He has their full attention now.

“This very spot. I remember I was so confused and scared. I cried and cried. I screamed for somebody, anybody, to help me, to explain what was going on.” Before he even realizes, he’s standing again. When had that happened? He’s trembling. “But nobody came.”

“Az, I…” Frisk’s voice is soft. They pity him. He cuts them off.

“I spent hours there, alone, really alone for the first time in my life, and those… _ stupid _ stars just sat there and glittered!” He’s raging now, looking for something to grab, his ankles getting caught in the overgrowth. He doesn’t notice. He trips and twists his ankle. He lands face first in the bed of golden flowers, those twisted, cursed things that overtook the garden, each one an echo of his own face, laughing at him. He’s tearing now, desperately grabbing and pulling, trying to destroy as many of the bastards as he can. Thorns dig into his hands. He doesn’t notice. Clumps of fur snag and tear. It hurts. He doesn’t notice. He keeps pulling, trying to destroy every last cursed flower. If he got hurt in the process, maybe it would finish the job.

“Hey, hey,” Chara’s standing next to him now, their hand on his shoulder gently but firmly. “Stop before you hurt yourself.”

He pauses. He looks down at his feet, his fur mussed and torn. He doesn’t notice. “I don’t know how to explain it.” He looks over his shoulder, not at them, but towards them. His hands catch fire, slowly dropping embers into the dirt. “I… I just wanted someone to hear me, so desperately, I ignored everything else. I lost myself, I lost you, I warped you.”

“You… warped me?”

“You were dead, just a memory. I warped that memory. I became so obsessed with the image I’d created that I thought _ Frisk _ was you. I-” His voice breaks. His fur is particularly damp around his eyes. It’s just the rain.

They sigh, walking around, keeping their hand on his shoulder so their arm wraps around him. They bring their other arm around and hug him. He’s crying now. It’s definitely not just the rain. He hugs them back, almost subconsciously.

“You’re right. It’s not ok. You’re hurting yourself over it.”

Frisk stands up and joins the hug. They always like a good group hug.

“I don’t understand how you all just forgive me.”

Chara pauses. “Despite everything, it’s still you. Dork.” 

He giggles, despite himself, then takes a deep breath. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

They all just stand there in the hug for a second, before Frisk mumbles. “I don’t think we can.”

“Why not.”

“We just… do.”

“We forgive you because you’re more than what you did as Flowey.”

“But I still did it. You can’t just pretend I didn’t.”

“Ok. We won’t.”

They stood there in the hug some more, before Chara broke the silence. “Maybe we should ask mom to get you a therapist.”

“Why hasn’t she?”

Asriel cringes, but it’s limited by the hug. “She’s always preferred just to pretend everything’s fine.”

Chara laughs. “When’d you first notice?”

“I had a lot of time.”

Eventually, he lets go. Frisk, and then Chara let go in response. They step back. “Do you feel better?”

“I’m not ok.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“A little bit.”

Frisk gently grabbed his hand. “Let’s go back. We can get mom to find someone who can actually help in the morning. She’s really worried, I’m sure she’ll listen.”

He nodded. He could tell he was done talking. He went to follow, but he fell from his twisted ankle, his hand getting pulled out of Frisk’s. “Agh!”

Chara leaned down and offered their hand. “Here, let me help.” He took it. Frisk took his other hand. They helped him up, Chara wrapping his arm over their shoulder so he didn’t have to put weight on his ankle. Frisk kept hold of his hand.

Together, the 3 of them turned and walked out of the now-destroyed garden he’d once called home. (Well, New Home, if he wanted to be technical.) The stone was smooth against his feet, and as it slowly turned to soft grass, the stars glittered gently above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost called this chapter "The siblings talk for 3.5 pages" but that doesn't really fit the theme. I also almost called it "he pauses" but lots of people pause. I think the irony of them very much not sitting in silence for 3.5 pages is better.
> 
> Also, don't ask me how everyone's alive I don't know shit I just wrote it.


End file.
